Mercy Kiss
by EclipiticTankChronicles
Summary: Seifer just wants to get away and Squall wants prestige. Together they've worked out a plan, but that plan gets seriously messed up once a mad scientist enters the picture. SeiferSquall SquallIrvine etc The good stuff.


- Note: There are time jumps in this but they are easy to follow. This is 'slash' and it's a SquallSeifer SquallIrvine Squall/Seifer x whoever the hell I want fic. Enjoy. -

**Mercy Kiss**

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

I reach into my pocket, pulling out my M-9, double-action pistol.

He scoffs.

A hand reaches for me and I shoot, it pins him in the leg. A scowl and a grunt before he hits the wall.

He opens his mouth, prepared to speak. I fire again.

What is it about him that makes me miss?

I want so badly to take him out, to finish this. He catches my hesitation and just like always, he smirks.

He stands straight up and comes towards me, hand reaching out for the weapon in my hand. Pulling it away, his eyes never leave mine.

Teasing, wanting.

He needs me.

His eyes are all telling.

His lips pull up into what looks like a snarl, it's what makes him appear like he is always about to say something. But he never does.

Actions always speak louder then words.

Besides, words have never given me an erection before.

Hands slide promiscuously. Clothes are discarded, breath becomes heavy and hot.

I can't stand his touch. The feel of him or the way he looks at me.

I let him lay me down on the desk, the closest means of making this comfortable. Or as comfortable as it will ever get.

A stapler jabs into my back. It's swatted away.

The gun is still on the floor.

I keep wondering if this is wrong or if I want it just as much as he does? I keep wondering if today is the day that he'll finish me. Fire a round into my head.

Depression can really make you go mad.

We always promise each other that we'll make it painless, quick. One of us will have to end this, sometime.

That's how he knew it was the same today. I shot at him twice, two non-fatal locations. I had made it clear to him that today I wouldn't be killing him. It was just another day of fucking in his office.

I convey through the look in my eyes that I will have it. His money will belong to me, his life, his house, his whole identity. I won't be a nobody anymore.

It took me so long to find him.

The perfect candidate for my rebirth.

A millionaire that works from home. An at-home office. His face is safe from the public eye all thanks to his nature, his philosophy of keeping people wondering.

I believe him, it's how he has built his fortune.

"What about the customers that come to you?", I push away from him and he doesn't seem like he can comprehend anything right now except how good his tongue feels in my mouth.

"They don't know it's me".

"Oh".

My mind stops worrying and I continue to allow his hands on my body, selfishly ravaging.

We've been planning. I 'kill' him and get his fortune, he gets away from here and in reality, me 'killing' him will save his life.

The black market isn't an extremely safe place to go about business. Seifer Almasy knows this all too well. I think this is about… what? The third time he's going to 'die' in his twenty-three year old life-time.

I only wish I could disappear. It would give me the right to say I was ever here in the first place. But I never am, I'm never completely here.

He finishes and pushes off of me, eyeing the gun, still on the floor.

He picks it up. Aims it at me.

Tosses it.

"Thanks", I say as I catch it, sitting and wiping the slight sweat from my forehead.

Despite our agreement, I've not been getting along with this man. I threaten to kill him.

Truthfully. I want to. He gets on my nerves. But it's the mercy in me that keeps me from hitting him. That makes me miss.

Mercy for myself.

I've never been noticed except for my body. I want it. I want prestige, I want somebody to remember my name. I want all that _he _has.

I 'kill' the man that I detest so much and gain a fortune, prestige, everything that I want.

So what could possibly be the problem with that?

I think I love him.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

A small restaurant, red and white table clothes like the ones used for picnics, wooden seats, a real country feel.

"A thousand even".

Unclear mutters as the man across from us takes another puff from his cigar.

"He's worth it, eh?"

I see him stare at me again for the countless time this night. He quirks a brow at me and I lower my head even further, eyeing the parts of Seifer's legs that I can see before the rest of them slip underneath the tablecloth.

Always in populated places. Always fake smiles so that the waitresses or waiters don't start wondering.

Deals are always made like this.

"How much for you?" he cups my chin.

I yank away and make sure he feels the gun I'm holding to his cock beneath the table.

He recoils like the touch of my skin is burning. Seifer laughs.

"He's mine", he states simply, and goes on with his business.

The conversation drones out to me. I stare at faces around the restaurant instead. Happy faces of children who just as easily could be getting sold to this man right now. I wonder how they would kill all three of us, those parents, if they knew just what types of men are sitting so very closely to their precious children. Or maybe some of them have secrets to hide themselves?

"Hey, we're going!" Seifer is being loud.

I glance at the forty something man he had been conversing with and find him looking quite irritated.

We leave and I don't say anything more about it. We get into his Jaguar X.

He's grumbling moodily, something about "What is the world coming to when the only thing your consumers are concerned with is how much it's gonna cost them for your bodyguard?"

That's funny. He's jealous of me.

I remember, it was only a little while ago that he had hated me.

It was only a little while ago that I had become his bodyguard.

It was only a little while ago... that he had changed my life forever.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

Flick. Flick. Flick again. Flick for the fourth time.

My eyes burned.

How could one man possibly flick his cigarette that much?

"Stop it,"

"What?"

"Stop flicking your cigarette so fucking much, it pisses me off".

His head drew back like a snake who was about to bite the head off its prey. I only noticed that it made him look fat.

It was taking him a while to answer, I wondered if it was really that hard for him to respond to what I had just told him?

"Fuck off".

See? Not that difficult.

"No. I want to stand here and make sure you stop flicking that goddamn cancer stick so much".

"I don't think you heard me. Fuck-off,"

"No I heard you".

He glared and I had no expression, as per usual. Then there was a devilish gleam in his eyes that had scared me but I hadn't let it show.

The drizzle of the rain seemed to be the perfect backdrop for our meeting. Outside Denny's Brunch House, tucking ourselves under the too-small ledge over top of us, meant to keep only the shrubbery dry.

Flick.

"What'd I fuckin' tell you?!"

He laughed. I didn't think it was funny just then.

"What the hell is your problem kid?" he was smiling, "You got turrets or something?"

I was ashamed to admit, no clever reply was coming to mind.

"No".

Flick, Flick, Flick in my face.

Temptation took over. My M-9 which had been tucked away so inconspicuously in my leather jacket was suddenly drawn. Touching his jaw, resting just atop his atoms apple.

It bulged as he gulped.

"Don't… fuckin' … do it… again…"

"You're fucked".

I'd shrugged it off.

The gun was hidden away again before anybody had even noticed it had been drawn. Not that it would have concerned me even if somebody had.

"You here with someone, or do you stalk alone?"

"Alone," I'd grumbled to him, it wasn't a lie. I took a bite out of my half-eaten sandwich. Actually, one I'd found on the park bench only minutes before, just across the street from the restaurant.

The rain got harder, hitting the ground in vengeance for the polluted clouds.

I watched this man blow the smoke from his mouth. He noticed.

"What? You see something you like?"

"You haven't even offered me a cigarette yet…"

"So?"

"So normal people do that. It's the rules".

Ah yes, before him, I had always thought that there had been some sort of unspoken smokers creed. 'Thou shalt always hasten his path in bestowing thy neighbor death in a stick'.

But no, this man wanted death all to himself.

"There _are _no rules, kid".

I frowned.

"… How old are you?"

"Twenty-three, wait, why am I telling you?"

He looked forwards, across the nearly abandoned parking lot for his answer.

Searching eyes.

"I'm twenty-one, I'll be twenty-two in a month or so. I'm not a kid".

He shrugged, "Point made".

He took one last drag on his cigarette then tossed it care freely into the rain.

The still smoking object left silvery-gray clouds in its wake, then fizzled out.

"Wanna make some money?"

My head had nearly snapped off, it was turned so quickly. I panted in his direction, checking my mind for corrections in what I had heard. No. I had heard it correctly.

"Yeah", I'd tried to seem as uninterested as possible.

"Come home with me,"

"Go home with you?"

"Yeah, come home with me, and I'll tell you there".

I'd thought about it. All the ways he could murder me, have his way with my dead body, skull fuck me? All the places he could hide my mangled and deformed carcass.

Sex was just sex, I wasn't afraid of that.

"Sure, I guess,"

"Okay, good".

He'd pulled out a new cigarette. Lit it.

We ventured into the parking lot.

His car came into sight and somehow the rain wasn't putting out the new cigarette in his mouth.

A Jaguar X. Impressive at first, but then I remember thinking, compensation for something.

"Get in," he'd ordered.

I'd followed his command and sat my soaking body down on the expensive looking interior.

He'd stood outside his car door for a few more moments. I'd leaned over, looking up at him. He was standing with his arms out to the rain, a refreshed look on his face.

His tongue was out, rain falling onto his whole body, one or two drops actually falling into his awaiting mouth.

He'd turned, saw me and smiled. Lifted the cigarette to his still slightly parted lips.

Flick.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"You liked the way I handled my gun,"

"Mm, I still do".

His bed is warm and welcoming. His room is large and hallow. I hadn't realized what I had even said only mere seconds after waking up, but I was here enough now to realize the rain hitting the window.

He wraps an arm around me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms quickly, a shiver in his touch.

"It's cold," he tells me, as if I would never realize it on my own.

I roll my head to the side on the pillow, to the bedside table. To my M-9.

My body yearns to reach out and grab it. Cradle it like the old friend it is.

Instead I let it sit there, on the cold table stand with the alarm clock.

Both my arms are to my sides.

I feel him move on top of me. Place kisses to my forehead, my chest, my jaw.

When did I start kissing back?

_Ding. Ding. Ding._

We both jump.

"Awe fuck! I'll get the door," he breaths and I feel his hot breath on my neck.

He pushes off of me and my body jiggles on the bed.

I stay still.

Seifer finally finds his gray slacks, pulls them on and rushes for the door shirtless.

_Ding. Ding. Ding._

"I'm coming! Shut the fuck up already!!"

I smile, hearing his voice retreating down the spiral staircase to the living room/ entrance.

He is saying it just for me because we both know whoever is outside won't be able to hear what's going on inside over the heavy rain.

"Hey, come in," I hear his voice faintly and turn my head on the pillow again, towards the doorway.

The other peoples voices are inaudible but I hear the door open and close, and the rustling of clothing.

"No, no, Seifer isn't here. Did you have an appointment?"

I smile again. His voice calms me, he's so collected.

M-9 catches my eye once more. I reach for it this time, touch the freezing cold metal and pull my hand back again to the warm, satin red bed sheets.

A voice which is a low grumble rattles on for a while. Not a single word coming out clear enough for me to understand.

Then another voice. A voice that sounds aggravated and anxious. My hands clench.

Some yells.

My jaw clenches. My eyes, my lungs, my ass.

I'm too tense by the time I hear his voice raise to a yell.

"Fuck you! You aren't getting anything if you deal with Seifer's business associates like this!!"

"I wanna see him," I hear finally, the grumbling man speaks clear for the first time.

I assume he means 'Seifer'. I sit up and grab the M-9, moving around the room quietly to get just enough clothes on.

I've got my underwear halfway on when I hear "Shhh! I hear something!" coming up the stairs.

_Fuck. _

Why hadn't I heard anything? A struggle? Seifer's cursing?

What if they had a silencer on one of their guns? Seifer could already be lying dead downstairs and I could be next.

I get behind the door, between the dark crack of the entrance and the wooden dresser.

Shadows creep over my toes, I wonder if they're visible. They pause right before the door and I'm even more tense.

I hear whispers, mostly curses. It's Seifer's voice.

Relief washes over me but I'm still tense. Hand's clenched, jaw, eyes, lungs, ass.

One of them rushes into the room and out of nowhere the little guy is missing the backside of his head. As it is now splattered across Seifer's expensive bed sheets and his cold bedside table.

Two drops have gotten on the window. They run down it carelessly in uncoordinated streams.

Ammo hammers through the door and I slam it shut, rolling my body in a mid-air jump for the closet. I thank Seifers large, outlandishly shaped room.

The gunfire stops. The struggle is over. I hear shots in the hall and walk over to the door.

My hand reaches for the knob, my eyes are watering, blurring my vision. They're burning again. Burning with the stress.

I look down at my face in the golden color of the doorknob and swing it open. In the short moment I take to realize that the grumbling man is standing and Seifer is not I've already fired.

The guy is dead. And Seifer?

I don't know about Seifer.

When I'd walked out he had just been standing there, over him, looking down. The image just finished registering in my mind.

I kneel next to Seifer who's gurgling, swallowing, looking into my eyes worriedly. My hand reaches inevitably for his bloody gut. Shot in the gut? That's one of the most painful and excruciatingly long ways to die. I fire a couple more rounds into the bigger guy in the hallway, blood getting everywhere if it hadn't already. Then I race downstairs. My shaky hands pull food packets from the fridge and freezer like a madman. I finally find a pack of frozen fish that I think is big enough and I run back up the stairs, hardly noticing that I'm still only in my underwear.

"Don't fuckin' leave me…" he sounds so scared.

I set the fish down on his stomach and he grimaces at the cold.

"I want it to stop bleeding!" I cry, not realizing that I even am until I hear my voice, which makes it more then clear.

His eyes start rolling back, I check his body for any other wounds but gladly see none.

"Hospital?"-"No!"

All at once. I hadn't expected that to work, anyways.

We sit still, me crying and him clinging to consciousnesses for the longest time. The stench of blood and sex coming from the bedroom.

"Remember…" it had gone completely silent, I'm not even sure if he is breathing anymore.

"Remember when I told you? When you saw me cry for the first time… when… when we," I choke on my own salty tears and cough, "When we fucked for the first time? I passed out in your house… when I decided I was going to accept your offer… when…" my voice breaks again, it sounds girly as my body convulses and I lean over on him. Looking down I see my tears dropping to his bloody flesh.

"Mmmah.. yeah…. I remember," he finally says, and I release air that I hadn't even known I had been holding.

People sound so much more sincere when they're dying, I can't help but think.

I can only bite my lip and gaze into his face.

Stare into his eyes.

Scared and confused.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

It had been weeks since he'd told me to come home with him.

I'd already realized plenty of things about him, though.

He doesn't like talking a lot but when he does he gets to the point. He doesn't like going out unless he has to, he likes sitting at home and just reading instead. He likes smoking. He likes cleaning his floors and using the giant gas fire place in the living room. He likes how all the walls in his house are either white or navy blue. He uses a charcoal blue Cattlemen revolver. He is touchy about animals, hates dogs. The only smells he really likes are nicotine and sweat. He has an addiction to leather. He's gotten laid almost three hundred times, something he's quite proud of. He likes couches, they are the best accessories. If he had a chance he would go on vacation, just to feel like a real working man. He gets tired of his life too often. He is rarely awake enough to realize what he's doing…

He likes alcohol.

Right then, he was drunk.

"What? Quit fucking staring at me!"

"You're drunk, you're entertaining when you're drunk," I took off my boots and moved over to him from the doorway of his enormous house.

"I'm not drunk. Two glasses… one bottle vodka… half cup of rum… that doesn't get me drunk".

I'd sighed and relaxed back into the white leather of his couch, glaring at him as he sprawled out on the floor in front of the fireplace again.

"Well, maybe not _you_, but normal"-"I'm not normal. Remember?" he'd giggled, completely uncharacteristically.

It made me laugh too.

The heat of the fire finally started setting in. I glared over at the sliding doors leading to his porch in the large open space which is the bottom floor of Seifers million dollar property. I hate snow.

And I just got there only to find that he was drunk?

Why did I keep coming?

Oh yes. He was paying me.

It had been a while since a job had paid me so much… but this was a real job. Not a hand or a blow.

A bodyguard. A real job as a bodyguard.

"Why'd you call me over so early? It's three in the morning," I'd calmly stated, brushing some of the snow off of the bottoms of my tight, leather pants.

"You sleep too much anyways… days are eternities… you can't miss a single one".

"That's deep," I couldn't even tell _myself _if I was mocking him or if I truly _did_ believe his drunk uttering's.

_Crackle. Crackle._ The sound soothed me for some reason. Seifer was holding up a bottle of vodka that he had already polished off. It reflected the fire light. I looked at it for too long and large black spots began blinding me.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Where'd you come from?… You just come into my life, annoying me but… impressing me in the way you do. I want to know who you are".

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes.

"You don't need to know"-"Yes I fucking do! I'm your boss, now tell me or you're fired!" the look on his slanted face told me that it wasn't a lie.

"No parents. Orphanages most of my life, got raped by my foster father so I ran away, lived on the streets…" my eyes were swelling up already, I didn't want to cry, just wanted to give him the hard facts.

'He _is_ my boss now,' I thought.

He bolted upright. Looked at me with an intensity in his eyes that I never want to see again.

"Sorry".

He seemed just as surprised that the word had left his mouth as me. Then he lied back down.

"You wanna stay here, with me… from now on? I think you should… after all… where do you go?"

"I go nowhere……" I stopped, perking up and looking from my feet to his sideways face again, "I don't understand you. Your job is selling kids to these men, they go through worse things then I ever have… so why do you say 'sorry' to me?"

"I don't agree with it, alright? I just don't think it does any good to work against the system. It will always go on".

I'd stiffened on the couch and he stood up, a little unsteadily.

Menacing eyes.

"Come here,"

"What?"

"Come here!"

I cringed at the strength in his voice. Slowly getting up off the white couch.

"COME HERE!"

Angry drunk. Angry drunk.

I added that knowledge to my list of Seifer.

I nearly tripped over myself, running towards him. When I got to him I stood up straight, he paused, his eyes flicking from one end of my face to the other, his bottom lip pulling up oh-so-slightly.

Then he hit me. He hit me across the face so hard that I fell backwards, into the glass coffee table.

"Bullshit".

"Shut up!"

"Bullshit!!!" I cried at him, teary-eyed and looking up at the man with the bottle in his hand.

He was upset because he didn't want to face the truth.

His eyes met mine.

Then he gave up and fell backwards. He stayed sitting and stared off behind me, eyes to the ground.

Lost.

"I know…" he mumbled and it almost sounded like he was about to cry.

"I know it's bullshit. I'm just a heartless piece of shit. I deserve to get tied up and beaten to death. I deserve… for them to find me".

He fell over, eyes still eerily staring.

He was talking about the men who want to kill him. Deals that had gone bad.

And why not? I would do the same if Seifer had ripped _me_ off and lived in an enormous mansion all alone, detached from society as a whole. His face never being known, his real name, who he is. All for safety were hidden. I realized at that moment, that could just as well be his undoing.

"Okay".

Seifer glared at me, wondering what the hell I could be going on about.

"Okay, I'll live here".

He looked confused still, and that was the part where I wanted him to conveniently pass out with a smile on his face. Just to make it dramatic.

He didn't, instead he heaved all over the floor.

Then he looked back up at me, "Why?"

I didn't even have to ask 'what?', he read it on my face already.

"Why, do you want to live with me?"

"You off"-"Yeah, I know I offered! I just want to know!".

That was the time when I decided whether I was going to play games with him or tell him the truth.

The truth never scares me.

"I want to protect you. I want to be able to protect you even better then I can now".

He smiled.

_Pass out, pass out, pass out, pass out._

He stood up and walked over to me drunkenly, stammering and jabbing his leg into the 'STUPID_ motherfucking _table!!' as he put it.

He _almost _fell over on top of me when he got close enough, but instead he'd swerved and landed a good two feet away from me, completely missing the couch.

I wished he had made it all the way to me, though.

"Help me up!" he yelled, tiring of looking so idiotic.

I jumped to my feet and pulled him up on top of me, then fell back on the couch. He was half on it and half off, his arms resting on my legs.

We stayed quiet. The silence between us was for once, not tense. Then he turned to me, so that his face was coming dangerously close to my stomach, my thighs.

He looked up at me and I realized that he wasn't at all in his right mind.

Did I care? No.

"Let's fuck" he'd said to me.

And I had no right to protest.

'After all, he _is_ my boss now'.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

"Seifer!! _Seifer!! _Wake up!! Please?!... oh please… god, please… please, wake up… please… oh god no, _please!!_"

Hearing myself cry like that, I knew he had changed me. I pictured how sad it would look, me cradling a dead or dying man in my lap and screaming. Shaky hands trying _so hard _to check a pulse, but failing.

That was right before I'd heard the door slamming open, mens voices. Yelling. I don't dare to look. I don't dare to lean over to the stairs and peek in between the railing.

I stand up, trying frantically to stop my heavy breathing, my sobs.

I turn and start down the hallway to where I know there is a closet at the end, a bathroom and an extra bedroom to the right and another living room with a balcony to the left.

"Upstairs".

I take it in, a calm, powerful voice, somewhat like Seifers but also completely different.

It lacks presence and passion. Seifer might not be… have been? –a very emotional man when he spoke, but his eyes showed his passion. I turn back and look at him lying there in the hallway.

Closed eyes.

I pray to God that these men won't touch him. That they'll think him dead and go away.

I creep into the spare bedroom and close the door just enough so that I can see between the crack of it. It's dark in the room and light in the hallway, I pray to God again that they won't see me.

My breath catches. My M-9 is still sitting next to Seifers body.

Too bad I already see three mens heads coming up the stairs. Then there are bodies, dressed in elaborate suits. The first man is small, blonde and has on a golden suit, the top half has black swirls all over it. He spots Seifer first and leaps towards him, once taking off his sunglasses I notice the strange markings on one side of his face. A tatoo?

He yells, "Hey, look at this guys!" like a little kid, enthusiasm dripping off of every word. He already scares me.

"Whoa, looks like he got it good," the tallest one says, standing perfectly straight and hovering over the others in an intimidating manner. The other noticeable aspects of this man, his black cowboy hat and ponytail of auburn hair sticking out the back. He looks kind of greasy.

The third man doesn't say anything, he's quiet, keeping his head down.

"Hey, Nida, go down and tell the boss that there's a dead guy up here!" the tallest one orders of the silent one, who has nothing on but a black suit and some shades. Even so I notice his short, cropped black hair and the paleness of his skin.

He nods and follows his orders, rushing down the stairs hurriedly.

The other two laugh.

"It's so fun having a new recruit around," the blonde says leaning over to Seifer and inspecting him further.

_Get away._

"Hey, this guy's kinda hot!" he shouts, startling me again.

"Ha!" the tall one starts while lighting a cigarette and putting it to his lips, "You're a faggot, Zell".

"No, I'm not, ass wipe!! Chicks can say how pretty they think other chicks are, so why can't _we_ say how hot another guy is?! I don't get it!"

The blonde man who's name is Zell stands and looks around, coming down the hall in my direction.

_Damn it!_

His eyes look sad, and I know now that they were just trying to make light-hearted conversation after finding the other two men, one dead in the hall and other in the bedroom.

He comes close to the door.

My heart feels like it's bursting, it's going too fast. It's like all those times I got high and wondered if it was the end. When I was into hard drugs, sex and partying.

Before I met Seifer.

Then I didn't need anything else. He was my excitement...

Zell stops, then he just turns and goes back.

He wanders all the way back to the taller man and leans over Seifer again.

One of his steady hands reaches out and touches his neck.

"Hey, Irvine... he's still breathing…!"

Irvine flinches and pulls the cigarette away from his mouth so that it hangs in his hand.

_Flick._

My eyes start to burn.

_Flick. Flick._

"So what?"

Zell jumps back in terror and waves his tiny little pistol around like he's going to go crazy.

"Well, what the fuck do we _do, man_?!"

The tall man smirks and takes another drag.

_Flick._

They start to water. I'm tense, clenching.

I look around the spare bedroom, doesn't he keep a gun in every single room of the house? I wait. Wait until the right moment.

They turn to yell "Hey boss! The guy is still alive!"

I run, run to the other side of the room and then stop.

"Yeah, yeah! He's still _alive_! Come up here!"

Good, they didn't see or hear me. I move around now, frantic. Seifer is alive. I've _got _to help him.

"I want to protect you. I want to be able to protect you even better then I can now," I whisper to myself, my hand clasping the gun. I don't recognize the brand but luckily it's loaded. That's Seifer too, always collecting exotic things.

"Oh, good, _and _he's young!" an old mans voice chants. I make my way back to the crack again, the tall one see's the change in light.

_Okay… get ready._

He parts his lips, blows smoke, the other hand still in his pocket as first his head peers down the hallway then his feet follow.

_Ready… ready… _

He's asking himself who could be there, his face explaining every emotion he feels.

Uncertainty, predominantly.

When he gets closer to the door I back up against the wall, so that I can only see directly to the side of me, through the crack.

I hear his footsteps.

I forget completely that I'm only in my underwear, I forget completely that my lover is lying in the hallway dying with some creepy old man and two of his flunkies standing over him. That I don't have my gun and don't know if this one will even work.

_Just get ready._

Irvine's body passes by the door and he stops, grabbing his gun no doubt, his cigarette still in his hand. He's so close to the crack that I can see his back, the rim of his hat and his ponytail. The material of the purple suit and that he is wearing a navy blue shirt underneath it, un-tucked. My eyes trail down further, he's reaching for the door.

His finger raises above his cigarette.

_Ready get ready._

Fli-"Don't"-ck-"Move".

He pauses, my gun's to his head and his is still at his side.

I can only picture the others faces as they stare down the hallway at their friend, a mysterious hand pointing out from behind the door with a gun.

"Stop flicking your cigarette so fucking much, it pisses me off".

"S-sorry…" he says in a whisper holding both his hands up and backing away slowly. I'm guessing he can only see half of me, of my stomach, my chest, my face.

I walk out from the room and look over at the rest of them.

I should shoot him, the other two look tense and are ready to draw their guns. The old man is smiling. A creepy, senile old smile, his wrinkles interfering.

His hands are clasped and he's standing right above Seifer.

_Get away._

"That one, he will do also," the old man states and just then this Irvine guy jumps at me. I fire and he jolts to the side, slamming his back against the closet door at the end of the hallway. Sliding down and leaving blood trailing behind him.

"Irvine!!" the loud blonde one yells and aims at me. I duck and jump just across the hallway, into the living room with the balcony. I slip around the doorframe in quick, mechanical movements, getting my aim. They keep firing mercilessly, nearly hitting their groaning companion in the hall.

I lean around the doorframe again. Another shot fired. Six bullets left.

It hits the blonde in the leg and he squeals and collapses to his knees, not as arrogant as before.

The silent one is a bit smarter, he's ducked into the bedroom and is standing the same as me. Firing endlessly. He has a machinegun.

'I can't use more then one shot on him!' I think restlessly, assessing my lack of ammo. I see the cowboys gun on the floor, and then look up into his face. He knows what I'm thinking and reaches for the gun. I jump out to grab it not thinking and get shot in the shoulder by the… I turn as I duck back into the room, falling on my butt. It was the damn blonde, kneeling, a furious expression on his face.

I hold the gun up at the one named Irvine and he flinches. His head rolls indolently to the side, I look into his eyes. It seems like he is dreading what's coming but isn't afraid of it.

He can't believe it's the end.

"Stop".

It's the old mans voice, strong and powerful and unlike Seifers.

"Stop or your friend dies".

_Shit._

"Now, come here".

Demanding, like Seifer. Except, I_ like_ listening to Seifer.

I stand up, ready to get shot, clasping my bloody shoulder with a sweaty hand.

Irvine is smirking, but not smugly, he is just relieved. I step out in front of him.

I find myself wishing I'd worn less see-through boxers. Why are most of mine white?

Zell is glaring, the silent one is… being silent, standing in the doorframe still. He's the only one I didn't manage to shoot, I've already forgotten his name.

"Good, now put down the gun".

What pisses me off more about the blonde, is that he was using _my_ gun. It's still smoking, pointing in my direction.

Shot by my own gun.

My old friend turned on me.

I drop the foreign gun. I feel the old man scanning me, he walks over to me, brushes a hand on my arm.

I don't move. I'm cold, looking at Seifer. I ignore everything and everyone else. Seifer…

"He'll be happy. Two for the price of one," the old man states proudly.

"Yeah, but which one is Seifer Almasy, Odine?" the silent one finally speaks.

"It doesn't matter. We've got them. And they'll pay for killing Raijin and Grey!"

I look over to the blonde again, he's still raging, still on his knees.

Then I look back down.

Closed eyes. Dying eyes. Bloody…

_Whack._

I look up from where I am. I'm on the floor? Irvine is standing over me, his gun in the air, my blood on the handle of it.

My head pounds and I'm gone. I wasn't completely here in the first place, anyways.

-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-::-

This story is reposted, since last time it got taken down.


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